


Risk Assessment

by UselessLilium (o0whitelily0o)



Series: Kazumi Onimaru Appreciation Project [8]
Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Developing Relationship, Interspecies Relationship(s), M/M, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 19:25:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13817844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o0whitelily0o/pseuds/UselessLilium
Summary: The diffride may be over, but despite everything Kazumi and Shiranui's bond remains. Shiranui would like to know why.





	Risk Assessment

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of a follow-up to 'Interdependence', but mostly just a conversation I'd really like to believe happened, because the exchange in NEXT episode 52 just doesn't cut it.  
> Here's hoping I didn't miss any relevant lores.

There’s many reasons, you suppose, that it shouldn’t be a surprise. With the severity of your injuries, you required a great deal of rest. For days, you drifted in and out of consciousness, trying futilely to reclaim the strength to move, to get back to your clan, to share what you learned about their attacker. But even aided by magic, every ounce of your energy was put into recovery. There was nothing you could do but wait.

Thinking about Kazumi in such circumstances was inevitable. You’d only just been separated, and he slips into the corners of your thoughts so easily. Seeing his brother’s avatar standing before you only served to remind you again of how closely your fates had been tied. And although the remains of your clan are your most pressing priority, in between waking and blacking out, you still think of him. Wonder what this all means for him and his brother.

But even so, you didn’t expect the familiar sensation of slipping out of your body. The opening of your eyes to stars, and finding yourself alone with only him standing across from you.

It takes a moment to understand what’s happened. Even seeing him there, staying very still, straight and rigid, doesn’t fully register. The connection between you had been broken, hadn’t it? Shouldn’t it have been left that way?

But he doesn’t move or disappear. Finally, you break the silence and speak. “I... didn’t expect to see you like this again. After everything that happened.”

“Did you think I’d look for a new avatar?” You nod, and he smiles a little. “That seems to be the popular opinion.”

You snort, lightly. “Surely that can’t be a surprise.”

“Maybe. But,” he shakes his head, the smile taking a saddened tint, “Even when I tried, I couldn’t imagine it. I didn’t want to.”

A part of you understands - the part where his memories linger, both the ones you stole and the ones he gave you. You remember how small he was when he found and chose you. Guilt knots at you again.

“Kazumi-” You try to stand, like that would make it easier to argue against him, only to stagger. There isn’t any pain from your injuries here, but whether due to the magic working on you or just your own weariness, you have no strength. Your body is too heavy and slow, and trying to move leaves you dizzy and off-balance. You have no choice but to remain sitting right now.

Despite the careful distance he’d been maintaining, as soon as he sees that he hurries towards you. “Are you alright? Did something happen?”

“...It was only a fight. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Of course you remember that memory too. The time he spent considering clans and deck builds, trying to decide what would be perfect for his little brother. You can’t tell him the avatar he picked so carefully would have killed you, or that you would have let him. You know too well how fragile his confidence is. There’s nothing he can do about it anyway. It would be cruel to tell him now.

He stares at you, stilling only a few steps away from you. “Was it really?” You don’t answer, trying to gauge how much he’s guessed. He drops his eyes, and continues more softly, “I... I know abandoning your mission was a serious risk. If it was Gastille, or another Apostle-”

“It wasn’t,” you assure, though you can’t in good conscience add ‘it had nothing to do with that’. “In any case, what happens on Cray isn’t your concern. You have enough to worry about on Earth. You should put my affairs out of your mind.”

To your surprise, he winces. “Is that... really what you want me to do?”

“What do you mean?”

His eyes flicker up to you, anxious and tentative, but his voice is even when he says, “You left me your memories. Your  _ feelings _ . I can’t just ignore them.”

Your tail twitches behind you. Careful, you remind yourself. You have to pick your words carefully here. “I gave you those so you would know what you’re up against, not to guilt you into remaining with me,” you say, but even that sounds too much like a reprimand. Be gentle with him. “My problems are my own, Kazumi. There’s no need for you to feel responsible for them.”

He looks away, mouth tightening for a moment. Finally, he says, “I know... what you do isn’t my business. But it’s- it’s not about guilt either. Not really.” He twists his hands a little, growing more frantic as he fails to complete his thought, “I just... it’s just that I-”

You start to reach towards him, to reassure him with a light touch like you used to. Fortunately, you remember yourself and drop it back to your knee. Instead you just say, “There’s no need to rush.”

He pauses, then nods, and tries again in a few seconds. “It’s just that... there are a lot of things I regret, about what happened. The way I accepted everything, without thinking or even trying to defend myself to you. But also... so much earlier than that.” His voice is very soft now, and he takes a small step towards you. “I didn’t want you to know anything about me that might disappoint you, so I didn’t tell you anything. Not really.” He laughs, quiet and infinitely bitter. “Even when you were in my mind, I didn’t try to help you understand  _ me _ . If I had...”

“Don’t,” you say, hoping your alarm isn’t showing too clearly. “At that point, I doubt I would have listened to you at all.”

“That’s what I’m saying.” Still trying to argue. Why is he only this stubborn about strange things like this? “If I’d been more open with you earlier, you might not have felt like you couldn’t trust me. Then none of it might have happened.”

“And if I hadn’t wanted a scapegoat so badly,” you say, just as insistent, “I wouldn’t have listened to Gastille’s words at all.” He holds your gaze, steady and still hard to read. But you know how quick he is to blame himself. How strongly he holds to that blame. If you learned nothing else about him, you learned that. “ _ I _ wanted someone to blame, Kazumi. That isn’t your fault.”

You can nearly see him weighing whether or not to continue this particular argument. In the end, he relents enough to change the subject, “What I wanted to say is... I can’t blame you for what happened. Not when I know how much pain you were in, and the ways I made everything harder.” He pauses, then. “I know... you didn’t really get a choice, when I picked you all those years ago. So if you’d rather I find another avatar, I will. But if you don’t, then... I want to keep trying. To make things better.”

The words themselves are straight-forward enough, but it’s the look in his eyes that turns the admission into something like a plea. Their cautious hope softens his expression, the vulnerability that you’d had to coax out glimpses of before now brandished openly. And you know, you should tell him to stop. That you don’t want what he’s offering you. He’s so  _ fragile _ , this boy. You don’t know if you can take care of him the way he needs. You don’t even know if you deserve the chance. What good have you ever been, as a leader? You get caught up in yourself, in your own feelings, so easily, and ignore them all. All the people depending on you-

“...Shiranui?” His hand touches yours, and you realize you’ve started digging you claws into your knee. The exhaustion is too deep to try and think of any kind of excuse. And he’s been honest with you, after all.

“When I went back to my clan,” you say, “Do you know what happened?” He blinks, bewildered by the topic change, but shakes his head quietly and waits for you to continue. “They were thrilled. They cheered for me, clamored around me... even though I’d left all of them behind, just to chase revenge on my own. Even though I should know, better than anyone, how easily lives can be lost...” Kazumi’s expression softens, and his hand still doesn’t move from yours. “I don’t understand. Them, or you, now. Why do any of you think I deserve this kind of loyalty?”

His hand is so small. You can’t really feel it through your armor. If you weren’t looking at it, you wouldn’t know it was there at all. “I suppose I can’t speak for anyone else, but... for me, I...” He looks off somewhere, like he’s trying to see his own reasons too. “Before I was able to really meet you, I always had this thought in my head, that you were a true leader. Someone who cares - really cares - about the people under him.” He smiles, then, simple and warm, “And when I did meet you, I found I was right. You listened to me, even when I only had meaningless things to say, and you tried to make me happy and keep me fighting my best. Even when I asked for some... rather outrageous things.” He turns a familiar shade of red with that last admission, fussing with his hair briefly before giving his head a quick shake and continuing. “If you were even like that with me, then I’m sure you took just as much care with your real followers. Whatever mistakes you make... I still think someone like that is worth following.”

It hurts, what he’s saying. Both his compliments, and the way he insults himself to give them. You didn’t just ‘make mistakes’, you want to tell him. You hurt him - would have destroyed him if you could. You ignored the danger your comrades were in. You put everyone who cared about you at risk because you could only think about your own pain. And you feel, again, that what he wants from you could be dangerous. You know better than anyone how deep his self-loathing runs. His need to punish himself for things he had no control over.

But... even if you do tell him to stop, to let go of you and find someone else for his avatar... you’re not so arrogant to believe you alone are responsible that facet of his personality. It preceded you, and will not disappear along with you if you go.

You look again, at this small and delicate human. He is not alone on his world anymore. Whatever criticisms you may have of his brother, you don’t doubt the two of them care for each other. But even considering that, the fact is even he was blind to the extent of Kazumi’s misery for far too long.

No one knows him the way you do, now. And no one knows you the way he does.

Behind you, your tail curls and uncurls, restless and indecisive. Even if that’s the case, you still don’t know if you can actually help him. If you’re capable of the kind of care he needs. But... he’s made it clear that he wants to take the chance. He’s chosen again and again to extend his hand to you, despite everything. You need to respect his say in the matter on that, at least. Your responsibility to him here is to be honest, and tell him if you want the same.

“...Alright,” you say, turning your hand over to hold his, “I will strive to deserve your praise, my Vanguard.”

To your amusement, his eyes widen with surprise, and he asks, “Are- are you sure? You really don’t have to-”

“You go to so much trouble to convince me, and then ask that?” It’s meant as a joke, but he flinches and looks guilty. So, more gently, you add, “Let me say it plainly, then. You alone are my other self, Kazumi. As long as you want this partnership, I intend to stay.”

He starts to blush again, but the relief on his face is even more plain. “Then I’ll give you all the strength I have to spare,” he says, holding on to your hand with both of his now, “So whoever your fight is against now, you’ll be able to win.”

Your tail flicks. If this connection is going to remain, then you should strive to be honest with him. “...I’ll tell you about it properly, eventually.” When Luard is safe, you decide, and there won’t be anything for him to blame himself for. “But not yet. Is that acceptable?”

He smiles, grateful. “Yes. Thank you.”

The scene starts to fade, then, like your shared relief weakens it. But even as he and the stars begin to disappear, and the pain from your injuries starts to reassert itself, that relief remains, and hardens into determination. You won’t lose anything again, you tell yourself. You won’t sacrifice one bond for another. They’re  _ all _ yours, and whatever happens from now on, you intend to protect them all.


End file.
